


First Comes Love

by InterwebsEqualsLIFE



Series: Jim and Spock, Sitting in a Tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Alien Cultural Differences, F/M, Kid Fic, Kid Kirk, Kid Spock, M/M, Part of series that I'll probably never post, Somehow fits Canon, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:17:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterwebsEqualsLIFE/pseuds/InterwebsEqualsLIFE
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a Vulcan child and a Human child meet on a playground and accidentally change their destinies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Comes Love

“Mother, I do not understand why we are here.” Spock commented. He and his mother stood before a playground on Earth. His mother had argued with his Father for nearly half a year to allow them to come and visit her grandfather, the only member of her family to support her marriage to Sarek. His 100th birthday happened to coincide with the Earth’s Memorial Day weekend. After attending a ceremony to remember those lost on the _U.S.S Kelvin_ and to christen the new _U.S.S. Kelvin-A_ , they would travel to visit a man that his mother told him had her utmost respect and admiration. However, the Ceremony wasn’t until the next day and Spock was confused as to why he had been pulled from his studies to stare at a structure of twisted metal and slanted plastic.

 

“The Vulcan elders disagree, but, several studies have shown that ‘play’ has many benefits. It releases pent up physical energy, encourages abstract thinking and problem solving, develops social cognition, empathy, self-esteem, and leadership skills. You are half Human, Spock. To deny a part of yourself is to live in ignorance of the motives behind not only your own actions but the motives of those around you. I wish for you to try, to the best of your ability, to play and experience how Humans live and grow so you may learn something of yourself.” Amanda answered, looking over the mostly empty playground. A lone boy of about five stood staring at the swings. She pointed him out to her son. “He’s a few years younger than you but, why don’t you ask him to play a game with you?” Spock looked up at her, blank faced, wondering what she hoped to accomplish with this exercise. “Go on.” She encouraged nudging him in the other child’s direction. He only barely refrained from sighing: it would be un-Vulcan.

 

The boy had managed to hoist himself onto one of the swings but wasn’t making any effort to propel himself. He looked up at the sound of Spock’s approach.

 

“Hello, I am Spock. I have been told to learn to play and was wondering if you might teach me.” Spock greeted when he was near enough. The other boy tilted his head and contemplated him for a moment before hopping back off the swing with an: “Okay”.

 

“I don’t want to be myself today.” The boy announced much to Spock’s confusion. “Do you get teased at school like I do?” The blond asked. Spock contemplated the question for a moment before answering affirmatively. “Well, I say that today, here, on this playground, we be somebody else. So you can call me…. Jack, Captain Jack: space pirate. And I’ll call you….” The boy paused, and after a moment Spock realized that he was expecting an answer.

 

“Just Spock is fine.” He told him only for the newly named ‘Captain Jack’ to wrinkle his nose in distaste.

 

“You can’t use your real name or there would be no point in pretending to not be yourself. You have to pick a different name, a pirate name.” Spock’s eyebrows tightened in the barest hint of a frown.

 

“I do not understand, what is a pirate? And why should we have pirate names when we are not pirates?” Spock asked, confused. Now the other boy frowned.

 

“Have you never played space pirates before?” Spock shook his head. “A pirate is an outlaw of the seas, stealing treasure and plundering ships.” The boy gesticulated wildly in what Spock suspected might be an approximation of sword fighting. “To play space pirates you pretend to be like that except you are in space and explore uncharted planets.” Jack explained, pulling Spock by his sleeve over to a simplified rocket with a round cut out window, slide, Fireman’s pole, and suspended bridge attached to it. It had been painted a near painful shade of lime green. Jack quickly scaled the ladder up to the interior platform and peaked out the window at Spock.

 

 

“Pirates seem to be morally reprehensible; I do not understand why we might emulate them.” Spock told him, looking up.

 

“Because they have lotsa adventures.” Was the simple answer. “You use a lot of big words.”

 

“Yes.” Spock answered. Jack seemed to think about Spock’s dilemma for a moment.

 

“We could be like Robin Hood. He was a thief a long, long, long time ago. He stole from the rich to help the poor. We could do that, only keep enough to take care of ourselves while still exploring and having adventures.” Spock contemplated this.

 

“I do not feel that anyone has the right to break the law, however, I will concede that doing so for the benefit of the less fortunate is not as…repulsive as being a ‘normal’ pirate. I still do not understand why we should portray ourselves as well-meaning thieves.” Spock conceded.

 

“Because it’s fun, and exciting.” Spock found this answer completely unhelpful.

 

“I still do not understand but shall defer to your expertise.” Jack nodded and beckoned him onto the “ship”. Spock primly climbed up the ladder and onto the platform. The shaded interior was slightly cooler and the area beneath the window had some knobs, latches, and a wheel attached.

 

“We still need a pirate name for you.” Jack pointed out frowning. Spock refrained from sighing again.

 

“Will Selek do?” Spock asked. Jack considered this for a moment before nodding and beckoning him over to the wheel. “So how does one play Space Pirates? Having never played before I find I am at a loss as to what we are doing and how to proceed.” The Captain frowned and absently turned the presumed steering wheel as if he was piloting the false rocket.

 

“Pretending has always been something I’ve just done.” Jack told him, staring absently out the window. “Okay” He let go of the wheel and turned to face Spock with a determined look. “First, when you play pretend you ignore what you know is real and accept something else as your reality for while you play.” Spock contemplated this. It was an illogical demand, but given what Jack had already said about playing Space Pirates Spock could see how accepting an untrue situation as reality might allow for a thrill within the safe parameters of the playground. Spock nodded slowly, unsure.

 

“So, you are not—Whatever name you told me before. You are Selek. First Mate to the awesome Captain Jack: pirate and explorer.” Spock frowned.

 

“Would I not be your First Officer?” He asked. Jack shook his head.

 

“Pirates have First Mates instead of First Officers.” The imaginary Captain explained. Spock—no, Selek, considered the wisdom in utilizing another identity to separate the two realities and lend credence. Selek could do anything he pleased within the bounds of his identity as a beneficial pirate exploring space. As Spock was too young to act outside of his parents’ power it reasoned that Selek’s identity would be the more appealing to adopt. Spock—currently Selek—nodded again.

 

“Good.” His Captain declared. “This is _The Initiative_ , she used to be a Starfleet vessel. We found her drifting abandoned by—by—…um,Tarsus! Yes! And we fixed her up, so she is ours.” Sp—Selek looked around the structure, unable to imagine this as a former elite vessel. Seeming to read his doubts Jack stepped closer and pulled the half-Vulcan boy down onto the ground with him. “Close your eyes.” He commanded, after a skeptical look Selek/Spock obeyed. “Okay, now, you hear the wind?” Selek nodded, “It’s not really the wind, it’s the hum of _The Initiative_ ’s engines and the blow of her life-support system’s air, even the whoosh of the doors opening and closing. Do you hear it?”

 

Spock tried to reconcile the breeze with the mechanical hum from the shuttle they had taken from Vulcan. They were dissimilar but both could be tuned out, a quiet hush of background noise. He was Selek, these are all sounds he heard but didn’t listen to; like the wind whistling over the rocks and dunes outside their home on Vulcan. Next he imagined the sleek look of the insides of the shuttle. The little neon lights on the consoles he’d glanced through the doors of the shuttle’s bridge.

 

The narrow tunnel-like hallways whose image he melded with the little suspension bridge leading to other areas of the structure—now ship. The little window would show nothing but the dark of space and the glimmer of distant stars. Selek opened his eyes, allowing this false reality to color how he saw the world. Jack smiled at him.

 

“How’s she look First Mate?” Captain Jack asked.

 

“She looks to be fully functional and ready for our next conquest Captain.” Selek answered dutifully. Captain Jack grinned and began detailing their mission.

 

“Space, the final frontier….”

 

+*-  +*-  +*- 

 

Around lunch time they were waylaid by the natives (Amanda Grayson took it upon herself to feed the two pirates) for a celebratory feast. As they finished eating at the only picnic bench a group of maybe half a dozen children ranging in age from 5 to 9 arrived. As they approached their spaceship the group surrounded them in curiosity.

 

“I’ve never seen either of you two around before.” The eldest and apparent leader stated peering into Spock’s eyes and eyeing his younger companion’s clothes.

 

“I’m visiting to go to the Memorial Service tomorrow.” The boy who had only introduced himself as Captain Jack answered.

 

“My grandfather’s 100th birthday is next week and I am also expected to attend the Memorial Service.” Spock explained. The boy peered at him some more leaning in too close for Spock’s comfort. This action seemed to agitate Jack.

 

“You don’t look like any other person I’ve seen before. Are you an alien?” Though his face did not betray it, Spock inwardly recoiled. ‘Alien’ was a term used on new or unfamiliar species, like a previously undiscovered fish, one did not use it in reference to another person.

 

“I do not appreciate you referring to me as an ‘alien’. I am from Vulcan, part of a sentient people who were capable of warp long before your own.” was Spock’s clipped response. The boy opened his mouth to say something further but Jack beat him to it, pulling Spock down closer to his height and licking one long stripe up Spock’s cheek. He had a brief sense of determination and possession. His cheek was left slightly chilled from the saliva drying in the breeze.

 

“I licked him. He’s mine. Go away.” Jack announced before grabbing Spock’s hand and hurriedly pulling him out of the small crowd. The nerves in his fingers seemed the tingle at the contact. He hadn’t touched another’s hands except for his parents. Even Sybok did not touch uncovered skin. The emotions he was feeling through the contact were a heady rush of affection, and indignation, and MINE.

 

Jack pulled them both through the open field nearby and around one of the thick-trunked trees. If he looked around the tree he could make out his mother’s form at the picnic table still but they were far enough that he could only hear the others if they shouted. Spock settled in next to a pouting Jack who quickly pressed himself as close as possible.

 

In a rare, unguarded, moment of nervousness Spock licked his lips and informed his companion of the Vulcan touch telepathy. He was amazed to be able to feel Jack process this new information and decide to leave their hands linked. Instead the boy seemed to turn his focus on attempting to convey thoughts through the bond of their skin. A weeping mother. A news vid of a funeral, the accompanying photo with a blue-eyed, blonde haired man. The disapproving sneer of a large man while the woman’s back was turned. Loneliness. All the things the five-year-old wanted to talk about but couldn’t. Tentatively, carefully, Spock returned with images of his own. His classmates’ insults. The sound of his parents arguing. T’Pring’s condescension. Loneliness.

Jack sat up turning to face him. _You’ll never be alone again_ he seemed to declare. _Because I am, and will always be, your friend._ He sealed the promise with the barest brush of lips and they remained sitting together until the sky began to grow dark and their mothers began to call for them.

 

+*- +*- +*- Twenty four years later+*- +*- +*-

 

Nyota Uhura was beginning to get very frustrated. Her Vulcan—and thus already emotionally distant—boyfriend had become less and less affectionate recently. With their touch telepathy already inhibiting a Vulcan’s inclination towards tactility, she had always known that physical affection would be scarce in her and Spock’s relationship. However, ever since Kahn she had had to fight for even the smallest peck on the lips or cuddle on the couch.

 

Surreptitiously she reached for Spock’s hand where it rested next to his breakfast plate. Just as nonchalantly he avoided her grasp by choosing that exact moment to flip the page on his PADD. She barely held in her scream of frustration.

 

Was there something more in Vulcan culture about touch that she didn’t know? Every time he avoided her touch he certainly made it seem unintentional so was she seeing something that wasn’t there? Huffing she decided to consult with her Xenolinguistics professor, at the very least he would be able to point her in the direction of an expert in Vulcan culture.

 

Spock evaded skin to skin contact again and she vowed to hunt down her old professor at lunch.

 

+*- +*- +*-

 

“Miss Uhura! Come in! Come in!” Professor Merrok was a surprisingly open minded Romulan. He was short and slightly pudgy and quite jolly. On the first day of every new batch of first year students he announced that while they were unlikely to ever meet another friendly Romulan he would be happy to help them with whatever they needed. His office was filled with cultural knick knacks from a variety planets and species. She spotted a few that she had sent him herself. Taking a seat and ensuring that the door was closed behind them Nyota began.

 

“It’s a pleasure to see you again Professor. I have a question regarding a personal matter.” He nodded in understanding and began to prepare some tea for them. Once they had both settled into their chairs with the refreshments she began. “I am in a relationship with a Vulcan. He has been avoiding my touch.”

 

“As touch telepaths Vulcans are conscientious of physical—“

 

“We have been dating for over 4 years. This is a withdrawal of affection. I wanted… Is there… I… I couldn’t think of any reason for him to pull away from me and I didn’t know if there was something cultural that I hadn’t learned of yet.” He leaned over to pat her covered arm comfortingly.

 

“Have you spoken to your First Officer? A Vulcan would be better to answer any questions you have.” She blushed and he made a noise of understanding. He contemplated her problem a little longer. “Honestly, except for the commonalities between Romulan and Vulcan culture I do not know anything that could help you.” He admitted. After a further moment he gestured for her to wait and got up to rifle through his bookshelf.

 

“There was one student;” He began explaining, “who tested out of all of our Vulcan Language classes in his first week. Several of his professors contacted me because he would often use sources written in Vulcan for his papers.” A thick binder was pulled free from the shelf and handed to her. “This is the thesis he submitted to fulfill the requirements for a minor in Vulcan.” She opened it up to find the entire thing in hand written Vulcan. Across the top, the only Standard writing apparent in the entire document was a very familiar signature. _James Tiberius Kirk._

 

+*- +*- +*-

 

“Captain.” Uhura called jogging up to Jim Kirk shortly after his last meeting for the day. Spock glanced at her curiously but she was able to wordlessly convince him to move on. Jim raised an eyebrow at her.

 

“That was weird.” He told her. She answered with a displeased look.

 

“May I speak to you privately, Captain?” She could see Spock glance back from where he was walking much further down the hall but she ignored it. Jim looked back and forth between them.

 

“Are you two fighting again? Because that still totally weirds me out. Also, I’m off the clock and if it’s a personal matter then I insist on being called Jim.” He whispered to her as he led her to his office nearby.

 

“Spock’s been pulling away from me and I don’t know why!” She burst as soon as the door closed. Jim stared at her from where he had been rounding his desk to take a seat.

 

“Huh? Why—?” He spluttered before rubbing his temples and collapsing into his chair. After a deep breath he seemed to collect his thoughts. “Okay, so, he’s pulling away from you, and you decided to come to me for advice why?” She dropped into the seat in front of his desk, defeated.

 

“First of all you’re his best friend—“

 

“I’m probably his only friend, excluding you because you are also—“He gestured the length of her body, “—getting it on with him. But apparently not recently. Anyway, go on.” She took a steadying breath.

 

“I talked to the Head of the Xenolinguistics Department, Professor Merrok, earlier. He showed me the thesis paper you submitted to him.”

 

“Yeah, don’t let Spock or any other Vulcans you know see that. I hacked their Academy for more references.” She gave him a disapproving look.

 

“He told me that you would be a better source on Vulcan culture than him.” She continued. “Spock has avoided touching me since Kahn was defeated. I still occasionally get a kiss—“

 

“An Earth Kiss or a Vulcan Kiss?” Jim interrupted. Uhura stared at him.

 

“I didn’t know that Vulcans kissed differently outside of their touch telepathy.” Uhura despaired, she had missed something. Jim sighed and leaned back in his chair.

 

“I don’t know if it’s cultural or if they are truly more sensitive than us but for Vulcans their hands are prominent erogenous zones. Holding hands in public is quite scandalous, like frotting on the streets, especially since The Time of the Awakening.” Jim explained. She blushed, thinking of all the times she had insisted on walking hand-in-hand. “A more accepted version is to touch the fingertips of your Pointer and middle fingers together.” He held out his own fingers in demonstration and she remembered Spock doing the same on several occasions.

 

“So he’s just no longer attracted to me.” She said dismayed.

 

“Not necessarily,” Jim interjected, “But now that you understand what it used to mean to him maybe we can puzzle out the why he’s stopped.” He comforted. She looked up teary eyed.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“No problem. My best guess would be that he’s having problem with one of his bonds. Vulcans form mental bonds between family members and their betrothed. Did he receive any odd messages from New Vulcan around Kahn’s defeat?” She shook her head. “I haven’t been able to figure out why but Vulcans perform a betrothal ritual at around age seven. It all seems very… Well, it seems like a backup plan to something given that the betrothed pair often doesn’t marry until nearly a decade after they reach maturity.”

 

“Are you saying that Spock has been engaged the entire time he’s been dating me?!” She screeched. Jim put his hands up, placating, and told her to calm down.

 

“If you had started having problems after Nero then I would have said that he was suffering some sort of mental recoil from the death of whoever he had been bonded to. His shields would be weak and your inability to shield your emotions would be the mental equivalent of screaming in the ear of a hung over person. But he didn’t, even with the death of his mother, so he probably wasn’t betrothed to anyone. Honestly, given what I’ve learned about Amanda Grayson, I can’t see her allowing Sarek to arrange Spock’s marriage, not without an argument of epic proportions.”

 

“So then why would he be pulling away from me?” Uhura asked desperate.

 

“Maybe some other member of his family died and that broken bond is giving him problems. Another member of his clan might be pressuring him to marry and he doesn’t want his concern to leach over to you. I don’t know. He hasn’t told me that anything is weighing on his mind. I think you will just have to ask him.” She sighed; she had been hoping to avoid that. She feared that Spock would evade her question just as he evaded her touch.

 

“Thank you Jim.” She told him sincerely. She stood to leave but just before doing so she realized that she still had something to ask him. “Before I go I have one more question, actually I have two.” He blinked at her in surprise.

 

“Shoot.”

 

“What was your thesis paper on? My written Vulcan is poor and I only got a glance at it.”

 

“Oh” He laughed. “I had come across an Old Vulcan word in a poem once: T’hy’la. In my thesis I hunted down other sources that mention it and postulated as to its meaning and use. What was your second question?”

 

“Why the interest? In Vulcan culture?” Something in his face softened and a warm smile settled on his lips as he peered off into the distance in remembrance.

 

“When I was little, barely old enough to go to school, my mom, brother, and I traveled here to San Francisco for a memorial service for the destruction of the _U.S.S. Kelvin_. I met a Vulcan boy on the playground near our hotel. We spent the entire day together. I think it’s my happiest childhood memory. I could probably find out who he was pretty easily but, I just can’t bring myself to—… Well I want to leave that memory as untouched as possible. Anyway, after we returned to Iowa I would study Vulcan whenever I got bored in class. The teachers let me because it kept me out of mischief. I’m told that I put emphasis on the wrong syllables sometimes like I have only ever read the words I am using, but in the few blind chats I’ve had with different Vulcans they’ve never been able to tell that I was human.” He shrugged.

 

“I am very impressed.” She admitted. “Thank you again for your help.”

 

“It was no problem. I’m going home now; Bones and I are meeting up for drinks later if you want to join us.” He told her as he guided her out of his office. She declined and departed for Spock’s apartment.

 

+*- +*- +*-

 

“Spock?” She called as she entered the apartment.

 

“I am in the living room.” He answered back. He was sitting on the couch reading through some files on the repairs to the _Enterprise_. She carefully took it out of his hands and knelt before him. He regarded her curiously as she took a fortifying breath.

 

“You’ve been pulling away from me Spock. You don’t stroke my cheek, and you won’t touch my hands. We don’t kiss. We haven’t had sex since Nibiru and I don’t understand why. I spoke with Professor Merrok and Jim earlier. It was mentioned that Vulcan children are betrothed or pre-bonded or… or … something. Is that what’s going on? Am I your mistress? The—“ Spock put one finger up to silence her.

 

“We do have betrothals at a young age on Vulcan. My parents argued about it for nearly two years before T’Pau said that she refused to bond me to another. I had always assumed that this was due to my human heritage but it wasn’t until recently that I realized it was because I had already bonded to someone by accident.” Her eyes widened in surprise.

 

“Who?” She demanded, conflicted. She loved Spock and thought that he loved her but this meant that during their entire relationship he’d been engaged to someone else. He was still, functionally, engaged to someone else. It hurt, and she didn’t know if it felt any better to know that he hadn’t known about the bond when he started dating her, or if it would have broken her heart this much regardless.

 

“A young boy I met when I visited Earth when I was eight. We attended the Christening of the _U.S.S. Kelvin-A_ and a memorial service for those lost in the attack of the original. My mother had encouraged me to learn how to play—“ Something in Uhura’s mind clicked. So few Vulcan children came to Earth, focusing instead on year-round studies. For Jim and his family to come out and stay in San Francisco it would have had to been for a special service, one beyond the ones they performed annually.

 

“Oh my God.” She breathed in shock. Spock stopped his tale. “It’s the Captain. Professor Merrok told me to consult with Jim because he had proven himself more knowledgeable. When I asked him why he had such an interest he told me about his happiest childhood memory being one where he was playing with a Vulcan boy—with _you_.” Spock was silent for a moment.

 

“Yes, I recognized the touch of his mind that day he taunted me on the bridge. It’s probably the only thing that kept me from immediately crushing his throat*. I did not realize that we had formed a bond until it went dark with his death in the warp core.” He paused and looked away from her. His expression was politely blank, like usual, but she knew that even 2 months later, even after Jim had been running around with his usual abandon, the mention of Jim’s death—however temporary it had been—still upset him. It was then she understood. That as much as he wanted her, wanted to keep their relationship, that the awareness of the bond had been causing their every interaction to be a struggle. He had been fighting himself to stay with her.

 

She realized that she had to let him go. He was too stubborn. It was illogical that his bond with Jim should affect their relationship when it hadn’t before. He would try to hold on to their relationship until it tore him apart. She knew that knowing did make a difference. That every time he touched her, his mind would flash to Jim; that the guilty emotions he kept buried and refused to acknowledge would be there in the back of his mind.

 

“Spock—“ She swallowed, unsure as to how to tell him that their relationship could not continue. “I appreciate that you’ve not wanted to hurt me with this knowledge. I understand why you feel that simply having knowledge of a—connection—that has always been there shouldn’t change our relationship. But it does. I love you, but knowing that touching me makes you feel guilt,—“He opened his mouth to protest her accusation of his feeling emotion and she had to smile, even through her tears. “—or inspires thoughts of another, is something I cannot live with.” She cupped his face tenderly one last time.

 

“And so, logically, our relationship must come to an end.” He inferred. She nodded, unable to talk around the tears in her throat. He looked around; his soulful brown eyes sad even as his face remained neutral. “This was your home first Nyota, I shall remove my things tonight and move into Starfleet quarters tomorrow.” He stood giving her the Ta’al. “Live long and prosper.”

 

She returned the Ta’al and left, unwilling to hurt him more by breaking down in front of him. Once she was outside of their— _her_ apartment building she flipped open her personal communicator and called Dr. McCoy. Jim would be hard to look at tonight, but she needed a drink and someone to stop her before she reached the point of alcohol poisoning.

 

“Hey! Uhura!” Jim called as she entered the hole-in-the-wall the two men considered a proper drinking establishment. To avoid going back to her apartment or showing up still in her uniform, she had walked into a store and walked out wearing the clothes she’d bought.

 

“Holy crap, Uhura, your hair!” Jim exclaimed when she took the seat on the other side of McCoy. She may have also gotten her hair cut into a short bob to make herself feel better. The doctor gave his friend a reproving look before turning to her.

 

“It looks nice, Lieutenant Uhura.” The older man told her. She nodded, and downed her first shot of the night.

 

“But Bones, all her _hair_ —“There was a thump as the _Enterprise’s_ CMO kicked his captain under the table.

 

“It looks nice, _doesn’t it Jim?_ ” McCoy asked pointedly. Jim stared at him bewildered, before he seemed to cotton on to what his friend was trying to say.

 

“Oh, yeah, it’s very sexy. I like it. It was just startling at first. Um, I’m gonna go use the bathroom.” He responded before scurrying toward a hallway behind the bar. His expression still slightly alarmed.

 

“I broke up with Spock.” Uhura told McCoy once Jim was out of earshot.

 

“I suspected as much. Do you want to talk about it? I can keep Jim away if you’d like.” he said. She rested her head on her arms to hide the tears threatening to fall. Slowly she nodded and he began to rub her back comfortingly.

 

“Has Jim ever told you about his happiest childhood memory?” She asked quietly a minute later.

 

“I believe so; a day playing space pirates with another boy when he was young wasn’t it?” She nodded.

 

“A day spent playing with a Vulcan boy. A day spent forming a bond that has influenced everything they’ve done since then. Like being the first to turn down an acceptance to the Vulcan Science Academy, or studying Vulcan until not even a native can tell he’s human.” McCoy stared at her.

 

“You’re not saying—Spock and Jim—They—and you two were—Did Spock know? Before? “She shook her head and he sat back in the booth, stunned. “Jesus, I think I need a drink, this round’s on me.” He announced, gesturing for the Bartender to bring another round. McCoy saw Jim peeking out of the bathroom two shots later. “Jim will never know, will he?”  He asked her quietly.

 

“Probably not.” She answered. McCoy didn’t know who he felt sorriest for: Spock—who would never find love; Uhura—who would always know that her friend and ex could be happy together but never would; or Jim—who would never know at all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> *Vulcan strength vs. Larynx. Guess who would lose.
> 
> I actually intend(ed?) for this to be the first part of a three fic series which was supposed to combine several ideas into a cohesive...thing. I'm not sure I'll ever get around to the other two parts, but since it stands alone I thought I'd post at least part of it.
> 
> Prospective Series' Titles:  
> "Jim and Spock Sitting in a Tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G,"
> 
> First Comes Love...
> 
> Then Comes Marriage...
> 
> Then Comes the Baby in the Baby-carriage...


End file.
